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SONNETS OF EXPERIENCE

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Real home dwells between its laughter and tears,
Rising from vain vale of dreams and needless fears.
It's not a horrid hovel but haven of growth,
For maturity of soul which beckons both.
Walk on to that perfect home of Realisation,
The pure peaceful state of Self Liberation.
We get lost in slums of conceptualisation,
Becoming mere parrots of verbalisation.
So dive deep in the heart of one's true home,
The Ganges of Self refresh the soul to roam.
Its an end to horrid morbid melancholia,
A new birth of bliss and sweet euphoria.
In our real home we'll find our heavenly joy,
A state of blessed Being that will never cloy.

AJ